A Time Apart
by tryal-and-airror
Summary: Hermione just wants to forget. She leaves London to write a book, she needs to clear her head and pull herself together. A/N- rated M for later chapters.
1. Just Forget

I want that great first sentence. One that stands the test of time, one that people know even though they have never opened a book their entire life.

'Call me Ishmael'

'Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice.'

'Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins.'

These few, these wonderful few, are only some in the universe of many. They make you want to venture further into the pages, dig deep and expose the characters that ache for you to read them. "Do not forget." The words cry, "For we bring all imagined creativity to life, and all life to those who cannot experience it themselves." That, my dear wonderful reader, is what I wish I could bring to you. It saddens me, because I do in fact know, that this is not that time for me. I hope to, at least, bring you into this story and capture you with more than just the first line, for there will be hundreds of hopeful thousands waiting for your approval.

* * *

Hermione slumped back in her chair. The words she had just finished typing staring back at her as if that was all she had and it was. Years had passed since the war and she was left with nothing to show for the winning team. Everything was gone; her home, beloved people and keepsakes, long gone in the fires of a hopeless war. Her heart still pounded thinking of the chaos that had been. She could hardly remember a single moment clearly, spells whizzing past her dodging head like a case of Fred and George's fireworks gone off wrong. Earth falling from the sky like rain from explosion spells. Screams from every direction, making Hermione feel as though she had falling into water, swimming towards the ocean floor, being so utterly confused as to what direction to go.

Tears flooded Hermione's eyes. She had to stop this, she couldn't take it anymore. Crying every time a scene from the war popped into her head was not going to help her write this book, which was suppose to be a hopeful way of taking her mind off the war since it was going to be a romance. That is, if she could pull herself together.

Furious with herself for thinking about things which do not need to be thought about at this moment, Hermione wiped her eyes and sat up tall with her hands planted firmly on the keyboard. Quickly, she reread what she had so as not to repeat herself, and began typing.

Being hidden away as she was, Hermione was lost to the outside world as a tremendous pulse exploded its way throughout the wizarding world.

Harry Potter was awake.

* * *

It was raining. 'How unusual', Harry thought. He turned around and went back into his modest two story home.

"Sweetheart, have you looked outside yet this morning?" Harry questioned as he took his seat at the table, unfolding the wet paper he just retrieved from his porch steps.

"No, I haven't. Is it too hot to go for a walk in the park? Perhaps a swim at the lake then?" His wife suggested as she bent over to pick Lily up from her highchair.

"I don't really think that will be an option either unless it clears up outside."

"Clears up?"

Hermione walked to the kitchen to peer out the screen door. Lily giggled happily on her mother's hip. She had never seen rain before, her little hands reached for it, hoping to grasp the strangeness falling from the odd dark sky. Hermione pushed the door open and held Lily just so that her small hand could feel the rain. Lily quickly pulled her hands back and looked up at her mother, with shock all over her face. Then just as fast she giggled loudly and thrust her hands back into the drizzle. Her small hands wringing as though they were being washed, she glanced up at Hermione as if to ask if this was the new way to wash their hands. Hermione laughed and pulled her young daughter close for a hug. Harry watched all this with a sparkle his emerald eyes. He loved them. They were his world of worlds. Hermione turned back to look at her husband, laughing when she saw his face. They were so happy that the rain only made their life more magical. The day was spent playing in puddles and making mud pies, only coming in to dry off and spend the rest of the afternoon snuggled in the living room under warm blankets, watching their favorite movie.

Harry woke the next morning shivering. It felt at least 20 degrees colder than yesterday. The rain pounded on the window this morning, unlike yesterday where it simply drizzled all day. Harry refused to open his eyes, so he simply snuggled further into his blankets. His muscles ached horribly as though he hadn't used them in years. 'Oh, no I must be getting sick from yesterday.' Harry thought sadly. He decided to go check on Lily to see how she was feeling, and it was at that moment Harry realized that he could not open his eyes.

Panic.

Harry lifted his hands to rub his eyes, hoping it was sleep preventing him from opening his eyes.

More panic.

His arms did not move when he asked them to, he was unsure if they were not moving or if they were tied down, he realized that he could not even feel them. "Hermione!?!" Harry screamed out, praying to every god he could think of, that she and his daughter were safe. What he did 'not' realize was that his panicked scream was nothing but a hoarse tired whisper. When he heard nothing in response he began to think the worst.

Death Eaters have escaped and came straight for his family. He had to get up. He had to! Get up! Nothing. GET UP! He began yelling out loud not caring if those bastards heard he was awake. He needed to get up and save his precious Lily, and beautiful Hermione. He just had to. Harry, starting to doubt himself after many minutes of nothing, not even the slightest twinge, broke down into tears. This is when he realized, a sob escaped his mouth, loud and scratchy. He had not been making any noise before, but now in all his horrific pain, a breakthrough. He tried again to call for his wife. His throat sore and scratched, made loud painful sounds. The words were incoherent, but the pain was undeniable. Harry suddenly heard feet, lots of feet running his way. He braced himself, ready for pain, ready for death.

"Mr. Potter?!" a voice asked excitedly. Harry stayed silent, unsure of what games were being played.

"Mr. Potter? Can you hear me?" Harry thought he heard questions being asked, but so much was going on, so many voices and feet scuttling around.

"Everyone! Shut the bloody hell up!" Silence. "Mr. Potter, this is Head Healer Dobbings at St. Mongo's. If you can hear me, please nod or make a sound, or... or... something."

A tear slid slowly down Harry's cheek.

"I can hear you." Harry tried to say.

"Oh thank Merlin, Josey call Molly this instant. Now!" Harry heard more feet running, this time away from him.

"Where's my family?! What's wrong with me? Why can't I move or open my eyes?" Harry mumbled, trying his best to get his mouth to move the way he wanted it to.

"I'm sorry Mr. Potter, but I can't catch what you're saying. I want you to know, that your safe and we have sent for Molly Weasley, who should be here any minute now. Do try and get some rest, all will start to fix itself soon enough."


	2. Dead Awake

Chapter 2

So we begin, my dear reader, the beginning of the end awaits you. Dive in with a clear mind and an open heart, within these following pages are not only my words but my soul. They are yours to dissect.

Four years. That's how many had passed since he left. He was supposed to return three years ago. Three. I should have been worried, more so than I was now, but I knew him. I understood. That's why I kept my mouth shut, and ignored the piteous looks that my friends sent my way. The smile on my face never departed, not until I was safely hidden in my house. Tears don't fall though, at least not for the last couple years. My body had given up on crying; realizing that it never got me anywhere, especially not up.

* * *

Hermione slammed her laptop closed. Frustrated, the start of her book was beginning to run her dry. This was the third time she had began the real beginning to her book, and each time it sounded more and more like her life. Hermione got up quickly, putting her hands on her face and running them through her hair, she paced around the room before leaving completely to make some tea. It was beginning to be ridiculous, every time she got done with the first paragraph, she would reread only to find that it was like she was writing about her life and not a fictional character. Sitting at her kitchen table, Hermione wrapped her hands around her tea cup, attempting to gather as much warmth from the hot drink as she could. A silent tear made its way down her face. Hermione simply whipped it away, used to the feel of single tears escaping from her eyes.

Hermione decided to move from the kitchen to her living room. Setting her tea on the coffee table in front of the couch, she pulled the blanket off of the back of the couch and curled up into the soft cushions. Reaching for the remote on the nightstand, Hermione turned on the TV. The Green Mile played back at her.

Really? Could life be as cruel right now as to have The Green Mile not only on TV but to be the first thing she sees. She had always felt that this was her own green mile, this new life she was living. Sure, she had not always felt this way, there was a time when she was unbelievably happy, so blinded of the thought that that happiness would last forever that she didn't keep a better log of those day. No journal or diary, few pictures, and fewer keepsakes. The one thing she had managed to hold on to was her letters, so many had been sent over the years, 6 years, to be quite exact. There was no need for sending letters during that final 7th year, but thinking back to it now, she wished they had done something, scribbled on parchment, keeping notes of the good days.

Who would have ever thought that this is how it was to turn into. Meaningless days, even more meaningless nights. Three long years. The first wasn't so bad. Everyone so happy with the downfall, color and life was quickly coming back into the wizarding world. Even with the slight set back, no one expected it to last this long. No, this world was so much better, its optimism and brightness made everything seem so possible. Everything. Ron, Hermione, and Luna had gotten a small two bedroom apartment together close to St. Mongos, so that no matter what someone could always be there. Just in case.

Ron and Luna had hit it off right after the war. It was like the dust settled and the first thing each one saw was the other, and so it was. Hermione was glad to be living with them, happy for the company and the warmth till Harry decided he wasn't tired anymore. He deserved this rest, 7 long years of fighting without much sleep can make any man tired, even Harry Potter. Slowly the months went by, without as much as a twitch. Some began to give up on Harry, but not Hermione, she knew he would wake up, but then the months turned into a year, and it hurt Hermione too much to see him every day. She decided to visit once a week, logically thinking, "A watched pot never boils." The first year turned into a second and even thought Hermione still believed Harry would wake up, she just couldn't handle sitting and waiting anymore, it was just going to drive her crazy. She, all at once, stopped visiting Harry, and began to hide in her room, only coming out for work and meals.

Ron, being the friend he is, tried desperately to guide Hermione back to her friends and family. She didn't care, she just wanted one thing, and as that year slowly passed so did Hermione's faith slowly fade. Tears came more frequently and work became less and less of a concern. Finally that day came, the day she broke.

She couldn't take it anymore; he's never going to wake up, never. She was just going to have to live with it.

Now when most people got to this point, it would be more of a break through. One of those moments where you are done with the self pity and doubt, you stick your chin out and march into the unknown with your head held as high as you can. Everyone thought that when Hermione had this moment, everything will change. Everything will not only be better, but it will be nearly as it was before. No one, not even that horrid Rita Skeeter, could have predicted what actually happened.

Hermione left. Simple. To the point. All that anyone knew. In her now empty room was a note left for Ron and his fiancé, Luna.

Dear Ronald and Luna,

I apologize for my abrupt leave. I didn't want a scene or any tears. I just wanted to be away from here. I do not know how long I will be gone. I love the both of you and wish you all the best in your future together. Please do not look for me, I wish to be alone. Don't worry Ronald; I'm not going to harm myself. I just need to get away for some time. I'm thinking about writing a book. Then again, I may just sit. Sitting is always good to do when one needs to think. Once again, I love you both dearly and will see you again someday.

Love and Best Wishes,

Hermione Granger

A year later, almost to the day, we find Hermione doing exactly as she said she would be doing, sitting and thinking, The Green Mile only a comforting white noise in the background.

* * *

"I'm sorry Mr. Potter, but I can't catch what you're saying. I want you to know, that your safe and we have sent for Molly Weasley, who should be here any minute now. Do try and get some rest, all will start to fix itself soon enough."

Harry nodded numbly. Relief flooding through him at the name of his adopted mother. She'll know what to do. Molly will take care of everything. Hermione and Lily will be safe. At these comforting thoughts, Harry drifted off into a dreamless sleep. A relaxing most needed sleep.

* * *

Molly Weasley was sitting in her favorite chair, knitting with her favorite needles, while washing the dishes with her favorite smelling soap, and listening to her favorite (well only) grandchild sleep soundly in her cradle.

It was a beautiful day, only it was raining quite heavily, but it was still beautiful, because how could it not be. Here she was with her first grandbaby! Molly sighed blissfully. While daydreaming of first steps and words, Molly's eyes had glanced at the clock, a slight "ooih" escaped her mouth as she quickly stood up to begin dinner. Her knitting quickly got out of her way, the needles clicking angrily at the bustling woman for nearly knocking out their loop. Molly simply smiled and continued on into the kitchen, happy to begin the best part of her day. It was Friday, the best day of the week. It was the one day that everyone came home from their busy lives to eat dinner together and visit. Oh, how Molly loved Friday.

Busy in the kitchen, Molly did not even hear the faint sounds of the floo being used. What did get Molly's attention was the sound of her new sweet grandchild suddenly screaming her head off. Molly was in the living room with her wand out faster than you can say, "'ello." Poor Josey nearly had her floo-coal head iced over. Thankfully, Molly knew Josey quite well from her visits to St. Mongos over the past few years that she quickly lowered her wand and was walking towards the screaming child.

"My goodness, Josey, you scared the life out of my sweet Clara. What could you possibly ne--"

"Molly Weasley! Please be quiet! I'm sorry for the interruption but I have urgent news from Head Healer Dobbings! H--"

"Oh really? Well you tell Arland that whatever it is, it doesn't have to be such a rude intrusion as to wake up a helpless--"

"MOLLY! Harry Potter is awake!!" Josey spit out quickly, before the family oriented woman could keep scolding her.

"What? H-harry?? He's awake?" Molly stuttered, completely stunned.

"Yes ma'am, and he seems quite disoriented, Healer Dobbings told me to retrieve you right away."

"Yes, yes of course, oh my, oh my.... I can't floo, not with Clara. Oh Josey, I would never ask but could you come here and watch Clara and wait till everyone comes home to explain what's going on?"

"Sure Molly, I can do that." Josey's head disappeared for a moment, only for her whole body to come shooting out the chimney. Quickly getting up, Josey dusts herself off and walks over to Molly, who is placing Clara back into her cradle.

"Please don't let anyone come to see Harry. I know they will all want to see him, but having just woke up it will be too much for him. They need to be patient." Molly said, while gathering up her shawl and knit cap. She pulled her wand out of her apron and summoned her knitting into her bag. She turned towards the kitchen and waved her wand expertly, "Dinner will be ready in 45 minutes, be sure that everyone eats, including yourself dearie, your looking quite thin." And with that Molly Weasley stepped into the floo and went to the rescue of the boy who saved them all.

* * *

*Click, click, scheeng*

Harry stirred slightly in his bed.

*Click, click, scheeng*

His eyes desperate to open and find out what was going on.

*click, clic---*

"Harry darling?" A soft motherly voice lulled.

"Mmmrs. Mwlesly?" Harry responded, trying very hard to wake up and get his mouth to form words properly. His mouth was so dry; he could hardly move his tongue.

"Oh Harry dear, it's so lovely to hear your voice again. If you can nod I would like for you to do so. I would like to give you some ice chips, but only if you think you can swallow properly. What do you say Harry, would you like to give it a go?"

"mwes" Harry mumbled, also attempting to nod. He thought he was, but to be honest he couldn't really tell.

"That's my boy, Harry." Molly said proudly.

Harry could feel her begin to reach towards him, like his senses were on high alert since his sight was currently out of order. He jumped slightly when the small plastic spoon touched his bottom lip. The ice already melting. Molly tipped it, into his mouth, ready to stop at any signs of choking, but of course as with all things Harry did, there was no cause for worry. The ice chips fell right onto his tongue allowing him the moisture; his own body had taken from him. Slowly he swallowed the ice, enjoying the cool liquid flowing down his throat.

After quite a few more spoonfuls, Harry wanted some answers. His throat was feeling much better and his mouth not so much like sand paper. Once he swallowed his last bunch of melted ice, he cleared his throat the best he could to let Molly know he was going to talk, or at least try.

"Mwhaut...*mmmccehmm*...mwhat hauppenned? andm mwhearss...*mMMmcheemm*.. Hearmiony and.. Lilby...*ehhcooughh* Lily?" Harry, quite proud of himself, rested back into the pillow to wait for a response.

"Harry dear, I'm not sure I understood you right, Hermione and Lily? Like your mum, dear?" Molly asked gently.

Harry shook his head. What did she mean his mum? She knew his mum was dead, what was she talking about?

"mno, my nwiffe an' dauwgterr."

Wife and daughter?? Molly wondered. What was he on about?

"Harry, do you know why you're in St. Mongo's?" Molly asked, in her most motherly tone. This calmed and worried Harry. Calmed, because he knew that with Molly by his side, everything was going to be okay, and worried because she did not answer his question. Nevertheless, he nodded, then shrugged, the sadly shook his head. Although he had many ideas of how he could have gotten there, the truth was that he had absolutely no clue.

"Oh, Harry....oh, Harry. First let me answer your question. Dear, Hermione is, well, we honestly don't know, you see this will make more sense in a little bit Dear, but you see she took off a little while ago. She was so depressed about, well about your situation that she went to be by herself for a little while, and she didn't tell anyone where she was going. And, well, oh Harry, about her being your wife, that was a dream you had dear, just a dream. I'm so sorry Harry, but there is no Lily. You don't have a daughter. I'm afraid you've been in a coma for the last 3 years, Harry." When Molly had begun to speak of Hermione, not only being gone but not being his, tears began to leak from his eyes, but as Molly continued talking, Harry began to sob.

Not his little girl!! Not Lily! She was real!! He did not dream her up! This was a trick to make him forget his little girl, but he would never! Not his baby, not his Lily!

Loud horrifying cries were coming from Harry. Molly had started tearing up when telling Harry the truth, but now, having to listen to this poor man's soul rip to pieces was truly terrifying. All Molly could do was cry with him; she had attempted to lay a gentle hand on his shoulder, but Harry only wretched his body away in a single jerked movement. She understood, she knew what it was like to lose a child. When Fred had fallen during the war, she felt as though a part of her had died and even though Lily had never really been alive, to Harry she had not only been born but had been his life. How was he to go on knowing that not only will he never see his little baby girl again, but that she was never real to begin with.

Harry cried for what felt like hours. He didn't even know what else to do. If Lily and Hermione weren't part of his life, what was he doing here? What did he really have to live for? With a last body shaking sob, Harry fell back into a deep slumber, his body and mind too tired to continue for the moment.

When Harry finally fell asleep, Molly covered him with extra blankets and added a dreamless sleeping draught to his IV before sitting back in her chair to watch over him.

* * *

A/N- Hey everyone! I hope that you're enjoying the story so far, I'm going to try to update once a week, but I bet that leaving awesome review would make me update even sooner!! ^.^ lol oh bribery, your silly. Anyways please tell me what you think, I really want to know! ^.^

Happy reading and writing!

Tryal


	3. Waiting to Move Forward

Chapter 3

I decided then and there that I was done. No longer was I going to let this broken heart control my life. What caused this sudden change in attitude you ask? Well I just finished listening to the 12th message on my answering machine and also just finished reading the 15th owl message from my friends. Their all wondering the same thing, where did I hide away to? Did I move? Am I sick? Why wasn't I returning their messages? Did I not want to even be friends anymore?? All these messages made me realize, I do not want to spend the rest of my life hiding in my house... all alone...with only a cat to keep me company. Was this really my life? Well no more! I said to myself as I continued to get ready for my first night out in nearly two years. I had sent a message to my friends earlier asking them to meet me at the Kings Crown Pub, a bar and grill in downtown muggle London. With one last look in the bathroom mirror, I headed to the kitchen to grab my coat and be on my way. Just as I reached the front door, a knock echoed in the kitchen. Assuming it to be one of my friends, I laughed and opened the door.

"'Ello Lucy." My face drops. I silently reach out to touch him. I'm surprised at how my hand does not go through him like I thought it might. A smile slowly stretches over my face.

"You're here." I say quietly.

"I told you I would come back for you."

"I thought... I, but you were gone. For too long you were gone." I stuttered, attempted to say that he was only suppose to be gone for one year, when it had been four. Tears began to form in my eyes.

"Too long?" He asked, now looking at all of me and not just my face. He seemed to notice my look, the tight blood red shirt and dark fitted pants. "Are you going out?" Hurt etched in his voice.

"Yes...no, no I, some friends and I are. You remember Ruby. She and I are. With some other friends. Are. Girls! I mean, their all girls." I sigh inwardly; mad at my obvious lack in communication.

He chuckled, the twinkle going back into his glorious eyes.

* * *

Hermione smiled. Sure it wasn't the best work, but she was happy that she was finally getting somewhere with her characters. She was confident that by the time she was finished with the book; her writing will be matured enough that she would be able to go back and fine tune all the messy parts.

For the first time in nearly 3 years, Hermione had begun to feel whole. She knew a book would be a great way for her to relax. She had not really intended for it to reflect her life, but now that it had she was happy with it. She liked the idea that she can make it how she's wants it for once. This book will be how her life should be and no one can change it because she is the one writing. It was going to be a great book.

Standing up from her chair, Hermione stretched to get out the kinks from sitting at her computer for so long. She decided it was time for lunch and lazily walked towards the kitchen, feeling amazingly calm for once. Her mind and body felt as if it was at peace, in fact she couldn't remember the last time she felt this relaxed. It was like this book was bringing Harry back to her. Sure he was still in a coma back in London, but at least to Hermione could bring him to life in her book. At least she had that.

Because she was feeling so happy at the moment, Hermione decided to send a letter to Ron. She knew that he must have been very worried over her when she left, but she knew he would be fine with Luna by his side. Her heart ached slightly when she thought of them. Luna, being Luna, did not have so many close friends so when Ron had asked her to marry him; she had asked Hermione to be her maid of honor. Sadly Hermione had left before their wedding, and she had felt awful about it. It was for the best though. Hermione was beginning to feel right again and soon she would be able to return home.

After lunch, Hermione sat down and wrote a short letter to Ron and Luna, telling them all about her book and that she's doing so much better now that she had some time to get her emotions in check. She also added that even though she is doing better, and even though it's already been a year, she was still unsure of how much time she still needed. Hermione explained that her book wasn't going as well as she had expected and that she decided that when she was well minded enough to finish a book, she would come home. Knowing that they would have no way to respond, Hermione made sure not to ask any questions, but stated that she hoped they were doing well and everyone was healthy and safe. She also put that if they had gotten married she was sure it was a beautiful ceremony and best wishes. Hermione was about to put down her quill when she had an afterthought. Below her love always, and underneath her neatly written name, Hermione asked Ron to visit Harry for her and to please remind him that she loved him. She momentarily thought about all the times she had confessed her love to Harry, thinking that he would wake up if he just knew the truth. Of course that hadn't happened, but after all this time, what could it hurt to remind her sleeping beauty.

Reading over the letter a couple of times to make sure she covered everything, Hermione smiled and folded the letter up, placing it into a muggle envelope. On the front she addressed it to Ronald Weasley at the Leaky Cauldron. She knew that Tom, the innkeeper at the Leaky Cauldron, would get it to Ron for her.

Grabbing her coat from the kitchen hook, Hermione walked out her back door and meandered around the house and out to the road. Hermione lived about a mile from Echwood, a small...very, very, small village in the woods of northern Michigan. Most days, when she needed to make her way into town, Hermione would ride her bike, but it was beautiful out today and she had been stuck inside because of rain for the last three days, walking would be a lovely change. Once she was into town, she made her way to Main St. to make her stop at the post office.

The door dinged pleasantly as Hermione walked in. Being the first letter Hermione has sent since she's been away, she looked around curiously. Spotting the service desk, Hermione walked towards it, taking her place in line behind an older man. Waiting patiently was always a virtue of Hermione's' and boy did it come in handy today. The older gentleman in front of her was obviously here to argue with the lady behind the desk, because that's what he did. For more than five minutes. Thankfully, Hermione didn't have anything else to do that needed attention right away, so in true Hermione fashion, she began to pull a small paperback from her purse. Just finishing her fifth page, she heard the man grumble past her, finally leaving the desk. Tucking her book back into her purse, she walked casually up to the desk.

"Good afternoon, how can I help you?" Teri, from her name tag, asked in a bored tone.

"'Ello, Teri. Um, I just need to buy a stamp for this letter please." Hermione informed pleasantly. The black hair woman nodded in a dull fashion and pulled a roll of stamps out from under the desk, scanned the bar code and ripped a stamp off, placing it precisely where it needed to be. Obviously she's been here for quite some time. Hermione handed her the correct amount of change and with a gentle goodbye, made her way out of the building. Having been in town quite a few times in the last year, she knew her way around quite well. Though to be honest, she had really only been in three stores, the market (obviously she needed to eat), Echwood General (for household supplies and what-not), and Dog-Eared Books, the local and most likely only book store. Today Hermione made her way over to Dog-Eared Books lazily, not in a hurry to leave the warming sun.

It was like a burst of life hit her, walking into a book store was one of the best feelings ever. The rush of cool comfortable air, followed closely by the scent of old musty pages and tattered hard covers mixed with the new freshly printed words and plastic soft covers of intricately designed books. Hermione didn't know if it was the bright beautiful day, the way her book was coming along, or the way books made her feel in general, but Hermione couldn't remember the last time she was so happy. It was like a new day had begun. Things were going to be better from now on. She could feel it in her soul. Hermione knew that soon she would be back at home in London where her heart was waiting.

* * *

"Ron, I know you want to help, but your mother knows what she's doing. You have to be patient." Luna said quietly to her pacing fiancé, all the while flipping through the newest Quibbler.

Ron stopped his pacing to look unbelieving at the blond witch. When he got no response from his rude staring, he promptly burst into rant mode.

"Patient? You want me to be patient?! Luna, do you even realize what's going on here? Harry is awake! My best mate! He's out of a coma. Not only that, but he's healthy, besides the weak muscles, there's virtually nothing wrong with him! And my mother won't even let me in to see him! But you know what the worst thing is?! I have absolutely no way of telling Hermione about it!! Do you know how mad she'll be when or if she finds out that Harry was awake and no one tried to get a hold of her!" Ron yelled frustration and stress extremely evident in his voice.

Luna looked up lovingly at her red-faced fiancé. Standing to gather him up into a comforting hug, Luna smiled at Ron.

"Sweetheart, you know as well as anyone that Hermione is the most level headed witch around. Besides, it's not like no one is trying to reach her. Of all people who don't want to be found, Hermione will never be found until she's ready to come out of hiding. She's just like a snkurleport, when they want to stay hidden they blend in to their surroundings, which is probably why they've never been seen." Luna finished dreamily.

Visibly relaxing, Ron folded his arms around her. He knew she was right, but it seemed that his group of friends could never have a break. Sure, Voldemort was defeated, but then Harry was in a coma. Hermione broke down and left, and then Harry wakes up. Not to mention all of the troubles that came during school. He was just tired of his friends never getting a truly happy moment, one that wasn't dampened by the fact of horrors to come, or battles to fight, or hell, even 6 foot essays. Sighing, he pulled slightly out of Luna's embrace.

"Thanks Luna, I needed that talk down. I guess I'm just not used to being the friend that has to figure out how to keep everything together." Luna smiled lovingly at her boyfriend.

"Come on," Luna said, tugging on Ron's hand, "lets grab some lunch and head over to St. Mongo's. Maybe Harry will be feeling well enough to see us today."

---------------------------------------------**~**----------------------------------------

Tears where once again making their way down Harry's face. He was sick of crying, he didn't want to do it anymore. He wished his body would dry up so that he wouldn't be able to even if he wanted to. He tried to relax, but it was so hard, knowing that his baby girl was never really there with him. Harry could still smell her no tears shampoo and feel her soft curls under his hand. He just wanted to hold her again. He knew the tears would not cease for him today.

He remembered waking up a few days earlier to Molly Weasley knitting in the chair closest to his bed. After some morning fussing about, getting his breakfast and what not all set up, Molly sat right back down in her chair and continued knitting. Harry remembered smiling at her and thanking her for being there, and then before he could stop himself he said, when his wife could not be.

The change in the room was immediate. The silence was full of sadness and awkwardness. Pain was laced in his voice as he apologized to Molly for saying that when the morning had started off so nice. Of course Molly would hear nothing of it, saying it was nothing to be ashamed for and if he would like to talk about it, she would listen. He nodded grimly, poking at his food and sometimes bringing some to his mouth. It was a few minutes before Harry could keep enough of his thoughts together to speak at all. When he did, he told Molly everything, especially about Lily, since she already knew Hermione quiet well.

Molly laughed at all of Lily's cute antics and cooed when Lily took her first step and sighed lovingly at Harry's description of his favorite sleeping position. Harry grinned at the thought of his daughter, he loved her so much. When he had finished telling Molly all about Lily, she smiled motherly at Harry, stating that she wished he had a picture, because she would have loved to see her grandbaby. Harry grinned at his adoptive mother, a few slow tears leaking from his eyes. Of course he had been said talking about it, but Molly had made him feel better about the situation. She was treating him like his feelings were real and not some dream like the doctors were. Harry sighed and began eating his food again.

When he finished his plate he leaned back into his pillow and rolled his head to the side to watch Molly knit. A comfortable silence followed, only disturbed by the beeping of Harry's monitors and the 'click, click, sheeng' of Molly's needles.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked gently, remembering Molly had said something before about her not being in London, but he couldn't recall what she has said exactly.

Molly paused in her knitting to look at Harry and said with all honesty, "We don't know, dearie."

When Harry just stared back at her blankly she continued.

"She visited you every day for a long time Harry. Then slowly she couldn't take it anymore, she didn't visit as often and soon she just stayed at home, she didn't even go to work. Poor dear was horribly upset. She was making herself sick by worrying all the time, so she did what she needed to, to get well. She wrote a note for Ron and Luna saying that she would be gone for a while and she would not come back until she felt ready. She left no way of contacting her and we looked, but you know Hermione, if she doesn't want to be found, she won't be."

Harry sighed. He knew that she wasn't his wife anymore...or ever was, but he loved her and with Lily gone, he desperately needed her by his side. Silently, Harry prayed that Hermione would be done doing whatever she was doing soon.

* * *

A/N- YAY! Chapter 3! ^.^ Anyways, I hope everyone enjoyed it.

Please review, cuz it makes me happy!

I hope that everyone is having an excellent Holiday season and staying warm and safe. I probably won't get another chapter out before the New Year, but I'll try. If I don't get one out then Happy New Year as well to everyone!

Party hardy, eat good food, laugh long, enjoy company of family and friends, and if you have time or money to spare this season, please give to those less fortunate.

Happy Writing!

Tryal


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